


Dance little liar

by manubibi



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Splash Free, Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Power Imbalance, Riding, mention of Rintori
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3276962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manubibi/pseuds/manubibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Splash Free!AU] Nagisa is a traveling dancer, Rin is the Sultan of the city of Samezuka. Ai loves Rin. Nagisa loves someone else. Smut, bullshit setting, don't take any of it seriously in any shape or form. Happy birthday Rin!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance little liar

The Eternal Desert is always immersed in a pastel red light, like a watercolor tint, hot as fire and dry as dead leaves. Walking through it would be pleasant, he thinks, if water was easier to find and the night was not filled with dangerous animals ready to kill anything in their path. Eventually, though, the wanderer and his camel step into the big shiny city of Iwatobi. It is crawling with activity and people still tending to their businesses. They barely mind him as he walks through the dusty streets, and when they do they glance up at him irritated. He apologizes, with an equally tired and irked look. He is generally pleasant to people, but he is also exhausted right now, and not in the mood to pretend that he would not kill for a glass of water and a bed.

And all this trip was to put his talents to good use. He is used to it, after all, being a wandering dancer without a stationary home. He comes from a nomadic tribe, and he has been dancing for rich people all his life. He likes it, too. He likes being observed, he likes having people's eyes on him, following the movements of his body, he likes having men drooling at him, looking at him like they could eat him up all in one bite. He has learnt to awake and use their attraction to obtain what he wants. If he wanted to, he could live here, stable in a house, and barely ever have to dance again.

But still, he keeps swaying and alluring audiences any time he can, he keeps playing with their bodies and their minds.

He is a blond, skinny boy around the age of seventeen, with magenta eyes always shiny like jewels and variously colored clothes wrapped around his body him. His skin is slightly darkened by the sun, even under his clothes since most of the time, when he is traveling alone through the dunes, he likes to take almost everything off.

\---

His contact for his next client should be waiting for him ' _where the fountains are_ ', as the message delivered by the royal Red-Backed Hawk read. He has never been in this city, and it is way too chaotic for him to orient himself through it. However, by asking around to people kind enough to stop and listen, he finally arrives at the place, which is a wide, open-air cloister with several small fountains running all around it. Before looking for the person who called him there, him and his camel dash to sate their thirst.

"Hazuki-san?" A high-pitched, thin voice asks behind him. When he turns, with his face dripping from washing it, he sees a boy around his age - maybe even younger - with grey hair and blue eyes. He seems to be constantly shy, since his cheeks are already pink. But his look is determined.

"Are you Ai-chan?" He asks, with a tired smile. His eyes are drooping now, but he is very much awake. The other boy flushes even harder, and frowns.

"Nitori-san for you," he corrects, before getting to business. "I hired you for the Sultan."

Nagisa, the wandering dancer, nods. Matsuoka Rin, the young and - they say - attractive regent who is famous for being picky about his entertainment, but pays  _really_  well.

"You arrived at the right moment. The Sultan is hosting a seasonal celebration tomorrow night, and I have heard good things of you.

Now it is the other's turn to have cheeks shaded with pink. He bows his head slightly, with the sun easying its unforgiving press on his nape. "I will do my best to please His Highness," he replies graciously. Suddenly, as he utters those words, his heart starts thrumming in his ribcage, a bird anxious to fly away. He is going to perform his street dance in front of royalty, his dry and rough moves are surely going to look like a child's game in front of such a picky audience. He is going to make a fool out of himself, he thinks while swallowing thickly and still the worries won't rush down his throat, hidden from sight.

"Is anything wrong?" Nitori asks, with a predatory voice. He does not sound as he likes Nagisa, and the blond wonders why that is. He has been polite, and they have not talked much. He reminds himself that formal conversations are supposed to be longer, to start off with nothings that nobody cares for.

"Ah, I am fine. By the by, have I perhaps offended you?" He asks directly, as he has always done. He is too tired to care about social etiquette, anyway. The young man in front of him blinks taken aback, like he was not expecting to be seen through, and shakes his head with a clear lie resounding up his throat.

"No, no. You seem like the kind of person we are looking for. I have reserved a room for you at palace, so you'll want to follow me," he replies, curtly, and right then Nagisa knows this person definitely already hates him. He shrugs to himself - after all, in a couple of days he will be traveling in the desert again, and he will not have to deal with him again. He has time to figure it out, anyway. The whole successive day, as a matter of fact.

While they walk to palace, they barely exchange any words, and those they do are about the city, its government - a topic he truly does not care for -, and casual exchanges of fake pleasantries he detests. However, his guide is polite. He shows around, while Nagisa observes the interns in awe - most of the decorations are made of gold, there are masterful demonstrations of art, gracefully dynamic statues in some halls that he manages to spy through, and flowers all over, which means the Sultan also possesses generous amounts of water and is prone to flaunting. The building, positioned in the middle of the city like a heart, is lovely, attracts his eyes all around, and make him feel like he is out of place more than ever. While fidgeting with his pretty jade necklace, he asks, "how old is the Sultan?"

The grey-haired male only glances behind his shoulders at him, before looking back ahead. "He is twenty-two, but will be twenty-three in a month and a half."

The visitor tilts his head at that. His Highness is as young as people say, which might be why the palace looks so fresh and not at all boring. And he also thinks about how much devotion this boy must have for his superior. Maybe it is just his job to know perfectly when birthdays are at court, but he is under the impression that something more is there, regardless. He does not comment, he just follows silently, which seems to make him uneasy since he likes to talk, and talk until people end up naturally liking him. Being likable is, after all, one of his characteristics.

Once he arrives at one of the many rooms devoted to hosting visitors, his eyes widen in awe. The bed in the middle of the room is big, soft, covered in silk sheets, and on the walls are engraved gracious golden decorations which run on the walls like ivy. On a bedside table, a pitcher filled with water and a large cup wait for him, together with a finely written message for him.

"You might want to have a bath before bedtime," Nitori reminds him, and is the only sound that makes him stop observing the walls. "And we cut the hands of people who try to scratch the gold off the walls," he adds, narrowing his eyes. It must have happened before.

Nagisa blinks heavily, raising his arms. "Ah, no, I would never! And... where can I wash?" He quickly asks. This boy in front of him looks intimidating, despite being smaller than him.

"Follow me," the other simply continues, turning around silently with an almost regal step. He guides the dancer through a few more halls, and the perfume of soap and salts hits Nagisa's nose before he even gets a glimpse of the baths. The place looks clean, the sound of splashing quietly fills the wide room up, and the motif on the walls is just the same, gold and shiny.

Nitori gives him a fine, white canopy towel, made soft with some treatment.

"Give me your clothes, I will have them washed, so tomorrow when you wake up they will be dry and clean," Nitori orders - his voice does not sound shy or embarrassed at the thought of seeing a naked man. And then it occurs to Nagisa that he has probably seen hundreds of dancers walk around the palace.

"Yes, thank you," he replies with a soft, really grateful smile. He has been waiting for this for the entire two days that he has travelled. Water to bathe in, water to clean himself with. And the scent is delicious, he cannot wait to really get the sweat and dirt off him.

Once he enters the warmed up water, he has to let go of a loud, repressed moan. It feels so nice. His whole body melts and his eyes suddenly feel heavy, tired, his entire being lets go of worries and anxiety. After a good night sleep, he thinks, he will dance in his best form, he is sure of it. Thus he relaxes in the water, closes his eyes and slowly slips under, with his thoughts slipping away.

\---

The next day, the sun hits his face with its pale light, right in the eyes like a punch. Nagisa tosses and turns for a few seconds, before opening a magenta orb and then the other. Right, the dance. He is supposed to be dancing in front of the Sultan. All the fear from the previous evening, the anxiety of ruining this job goes back to him. If he missteps in front of this person, rumors will spread about him. That he is not worth paying for, that he is a badly balanced dancer.

His style is sort of a mix of several kinds of dance he has seen while traveling. His strongest feature are hips - the mobility of his waist bones and muscles is impressive, as someone has told him - but he also likes to jump, flip, spin, somersault, balance himself on one foot while moving his arms and body.

However, tonight he wants to be sensual. There will be no room for hops and childish play, he will be making use of his hips as much as possible, and see if the Sultan likes it. It’s no secret that he likes men. Women, too, but mostly men. He has male hookers ready for him any time he feels lonely, Nagisa knows it because words travel better than the wind.

Today, the palace is in a frenzy. Nagisa does not seem to be able to see the Sultan, which comes as a disappointment to him since seeing him could work at his advantage.

\---

He sees him soon enough, after catching up with the meals he has skipped during his journey and because of his tired state the previous night. He sees him at the actual event though, in the evening, as he sits on a big chair in the middle of the front wall. He is enjoying his beverage, and looking at the big room filled with guests, all dressed elegantly. Nagisa is wearing a great deal of jewelry that he has been given, including a golden collar around his neck and various colored bracelets.

He sits in a corner listening to the musicians play something soothing and relaxed, while a quiet chit-chatter floats in the room. The atmosphere is pleasant, and the smell of good food is tempting, but the blond dancer cannot afford to eat before performing.

The Sultan is tall, muscly, but also gorgeous in his eyes. His crimson hair is paired up with his eyes’ color, and his expression constantly sharpened by the shape of his chin, his teeth, but most of all the shape of his very eyes. Nagisa wants to seduce this man, and gain as much as he can.

 

When his moment comes, he can feel the Sultan’s eyes on him, even though his own are firmly closed while he waits for the musical cue. He has instructed to keep the rhythm slow, and then to start with a crescendo, and to keep it steady. He is lying on the floor on his back, his knees propping his waist slightly up, and as soon as he hears the first dull beat of the drum, his hips seem to move on their own volition, his breath keeps slow while his back arches slowly, very slowly, and when it’s at top height, he starts rolling his waist up and down, simulating thrusts. He cannot see the effect his movements are having, but according to the widespread murmuring he can hear, he seems to be provoking something at least. He cannot hold a smile back as his body gradually lays back down, still moving like he was a snake. He opens his eyes when he gracefully sits up and then stands, they immediately search for the sultan’s. The man sitting on the biggest chair seems to be affected, at least according to the glimmer in his eyes and the soft blush on his cheeks. When Nagisa locks eyes with his, he simply stops blinking altogether. The dancer’s hips sway left and right while he approaches, takes a few steps back, and then the music starts rising. That’s when he does a backflip, willingly interrupting eye contact, spins around in a few soft jumps and gives a sly, sensual look to the audience in the room.

And then he finally goes back to burn into the Sultan’s eyes, and out of inspiration he does something he has never done before: he takes a few but fast light steps straight towards him, as the rhythm reaches its climax, and then the beat stops when Nagisa leans on the armrests or the Sultan’s chair, effectively trapping him as he sits with an astounded expression, the blush in his cheeks spreading.

Nagisa has never been so bold, but he smiles in some sort of high. He knows he is not the best dancer in a technical way, but he also knows he has got charm, especially now that he does not look like a little boy anymore. He holds his stare into the other male’s eyes until the latter looks away embarrassed, which is also unheard of. The dancer’s expression softens, and he raises back up, takes a few steps back while bowing, and eventually closes his eyes.

There are singers, other dancers, comedians after him, food is being offered to him and now, yes, he gladly eats again, but he does also notice that the Sultan’s eyes steal glances his way, and he seems to shift uncomfortably on his seat. Nagisa smirks, only staring openly when he senses the celebration is ending, when he can collect his pay. He knows he should stay at least until all the guests have left and only the servants and other performers have stayed, and that leaves an opening for his host to finally talk to him.

“You are Hazuki, right?” He asks, sitting gracefully in front of him, both crosslegged while the dancer still relaxes with a glass of wine in his hand.

“I am,” Nagisa replies, with a soft smile, making sure to steal another glance while sipping.

“I want you.” The other is curt, succint, and the blond likes the direction that brief conversation is taking. The Sultan seems to speak with a particular dialect, his sounds come out slightly slurred, and he seems like a feline to the blond. They are both predators, then.

“That is what  _I_  wanted,” he replies, bolder than ever. He must have drank a glass of wine too much, because everybody around him just stares. The young sultan also does, and for a moment it seems to Nagisa that he has pushed himself too far.

“Come with me,” the other growls instead, and magenta meets crimson in a mutual silent agreement.

 

A few minutes later, Nagisa is gasping softly with his fingers grasping at anything he can catch when the acute teeth biting and rubbing on the sensitive skin of his neck join up with a tongue giving soft, taunting touches on his jawline. He lets go a delicious whimper when the Sultan’s hands touch his skin, trail down until they rest on his hips (his best weapons to allure from the beginning) and shivers run through both their bodies. The still smaller dancer rolls his waist forward, teases the bigger male with his fingers running gently down the lean, firm chest in front of him.

They are in a hall, Nagisa threw the bait by pretending to be going back to his designated room, but Rin - the Sultan - has blocked him and shoved him against a wall, immediately attacking his mouth until it got all red and puffy.

And now he is letting the most powerful he has ever met explore his from under his clothes, he shivers with pleasure and follows the heavily jeweled hands with motions of his body, still not tired of moving in waves. He figures he will be doing a lot more of that, and excitement takes over him.

“ _I want you for myself_ ,” the Sultan whispers in his ear, and he nods.

“Then take me, I’m here,” he finally teases, looking up at him with the warmest expression he can wear. That gains him another open-mouthed kiss, with tongues swirling and small moans being coaxed out of the younger, while both men press against each other until they can feel bulges in their respective pants.

The look in the Sultan’s eyes shows he really could not wait to hear anything else.

\---

The bedroom has gorgeous and colorful paintings hung from the walls, more decorations around the walls, and the bed is surrounded by soft, almost transparent veils. The bedside table is neatly ordered, and only an oblong bottle is sitting on it, together with some hard cover books, and a soft darkness veils everything he sees, despite the pair of candles lit up on each side of the bed. This looks like a king’s room, truthfully. It is tidy, clean, and smoke does not seem to have darkened the insides. 

Nagisa is surprisingly self-aware when he finds himself in the situation of dropping his clothes to the floor while Rin watches his every move. It is exciting, but embarrassing too, and he generally has never any problem stripping for someone. When he is done, though, the look in the other male’s eyes is warm, and glossy, and it makes his body tense up. He moves a few steps and then his weigh shifts on the soft mattress and the sheets pulled to the bottom of the bed. He crawls, awkwardly. If he was a hooker he would know what to do. Luckily, Rin does, and he leans his hands on Nagisa’s small hips coercing him to sit on his lap. The blond can feel something hardening under his bottom. He blushes while rubbing on it, making his whole body harmoniously move which tears a grunt from the Sultan. And yet the red-haired male barely does anything, he just bites down on his own lip, while shivering with excitement.

“What do you like, Your Highness?” Nagisa finally speaks, while still slowly rocking on top of him. The other seems to be relaxing, and grins slightly.

“What you’re doing is fine so far. And then I want you to ride me,” he replies, digging his fingers into the small of the dancer’s back. Nagisa can feel him get harder and bigger under his own ministrations, and he smiles. He is tired, but he can do this.

He nods, closes his eyes very well aware that Rin’s gaze is shifting up and down his body, thus he shows off his torso by flexing muscles right under his skin, and the Sultan lets go a muffled moan through his lips while touching the other’s stomach and then his sex which is also getting bigger and thicker.

The tension grows when Rin’s hips start jolting upwards, impatiently, while he lets go a frustrated sigh. Nagisa looks down at his trousers, and smirks when he lifts from the other for the groan he obtains is pure frustration. And he loves making men really wish for him to satisfy them.

While running little - and painfully slow - kisses down the Sultan’s chest and stomach, his breath quickens, which the other can immediately sense, and his digits trail down paler skin, followed by gentle tingling and he dares to slip his own hand inside Rin’s wide pants, finding his erection. At that point, embarrassment has entirely left him, and instincts are ruling every move he makes, from the way his fingers wrap around him to the way his mouth reaches down and kisses gently the shaft, while his eyes close. Rin’s thighs twitch slightly, as he tries to relax, and his fingers curl around fluffy strands of blond hair, and fist into them when Nagisa takes the man’s sex into his mouth, bobs his head a few times and his cheeks flush.

Wet, lewd sounds come out of him while he coats the Sultan’s cock with his own saliva, and open mouthed groans leave the noble’s throat, while he thrusts himself deep down the dancer’s one, holding him in place even though Nagisa starts to gag and drool all around him. He coughs when he is allowed to raise his head, and wipes his mouth as he positions himself on top of Rin, who in the meanwhile has blushed and hidden it by stretching onto the bedside table, and is pouring some vegetal oil on the palm of his hand. Without asking, he slips his now wet hand between Nagisa’s thighs, and quietly fingers him, first with one finger but then hurrying to insert another because he cannot wait much longer.

The blond whimpers while lowering his hips, with his face pink and sweat already forming on his skin, excited, with waves of pain already subsiding to the pleasure as his sweet spot gets touched and teased. He finally moans out loud when his lips part, and from then on he will never shut his mouth again. Rin flashes a crooked smile while cruelly twisting his fingers inside the other, and Nagisa feels the warmth and pressure between his legs rise up to his face, but not get any relief. If anything, the warmth and morbid desire to grind against the older male grows fast, uncontrollable.

But Rin is keeping him in place, and he does not dare contradict his will, not now that he is naked and vulnerable and clearly overpowered despite the appearances. He finds himself being guided with incredible gentleness but steadiness down Rin’s length, and he groans once again, uncomfortably as he does his best to relax and stretch more easily around him, but his body contracts and uncontrollably bends backwards, seeking relief. His arms run backwards supporting themselves on the Sultan’s legs, and the view from his point of view is spectacular: muscles moving, swelling and relaxing while the dim light hits the darker skin glimmering naked.

Pleasure folds Rin’s insides, buzzes into his head and down his spine, forces his lips open and with no control or reason left he lets out a moan which tangles up with Nagisa’s vocalizations, into the air which already starts to smell of sex.

While fucking into his warm hole, Rin closes his eyes, abandons himself to the feeling of the other’s body, his voice, and images flashing before his eyes of the dance this boy has offered him before.

“Why don’t you move your hips like you did before,” he says in a commanding tone, and Nagisa does not even hear him at first, but then complies and moves back and forth harmoniously at his best, instead of bouncing softly, and Rin’s moans arise in volume, while the pleasure springs up inside of him. He jolts his own hips up into the other with his patience running thin, grabs his sides and clenches his teeth suddenly, digging his fingers into his skin once again, and then loses control: he growls, makes them switch position after slipping out of the other, and pins him down to the mattress while catching up, fucking into him fast and hard. Nagisa’s surprise paints his face with red, and he tenses up not expecting this move, and he lowers his guard, and his toes curl while he comes all over his own chest.

Rin smiles satisfied, grunting into his neck, bites hard down on his skin and Nagisa knows the marks will stay there for days. He keeps moaning while his orgasm sets his own nerves ablaze and then he relaxes, shivering with cold and with his body overly sensitive. He huffs and clenches his teeth - now Rin’s thrusts are painful - and since he has been good, the Sultan decides to reward him by controlling himself once again. He grazes his teeth down, sucks on Nagisa’s neck for a few seconds, and then exits him. But he still looks over with expectations, and Nagisa is still shaking a little, but he positions himself between the Sultan’s legs, despite his own tiredness. Right now he would rest, but that idea is unacceptable.

Rin hands him over the oil which he used to lubricate him, and the blond lets it drop on the palm of his hand. The liquid has a strong but pleasant smell, and several drops fall on the silk sheet under them. While he himself inserts an index into the older man, he lets his mouth wander around Rin’s groin, purposefully avoiding the still throbbing and twitching erection which obviously requires for attentions and care and yet the blond is denying it, smirking up when the Sultan lets out a frustrated moan.

“Be patient, Your Highness…” He teases, searching for his prostate, and when he happens to brush past it Rin clenches his fists.

“Just fuck me,” he breathes, looking up at the dancer with a frown.

The other does not have to repeat himself, because he looks impatient and Nagisa can only tease so much before giving in, and he is also tired, after all. Therefore he starts thrusting into the Sultan with two fingers and then three, trying to hit his prostate each time and then twisting his fingers in, vigorously pushing himself inside of the other, and then with the other slick hand he finally pumps around the erection in front of him and Rin cries out while curling his fingers through the sheet and digging his heels into the mattress - his body also covered in a thin layer of sweat and he feels  _good_. At two steps from reaching his high, his hips thrust upwards and then he comes into the blond’s hand, letting him pump around him a few more times before grabbing his wrists. “Nice,” he murmurs as the room quietly fills up with their heavy breathing. “Good,” he repeats, with his chest rising and lowering fast. “Nice,” is the last thing he says before closing his eyes, and he talks about himself, asks questions about Nagisa and the town he comes from, about his travels and who he danced for.

The entertainer does not really feel like talking or staying awake, but he humors the Sultan for a bit, until he drifts off to sleep while the other is talking. Rin realizes it after a good five minutes, and he cackles as he turns around and also easily falls asleep.

\---

The next morning, Nagisa wakes up with a leg thrown around his legs and an arm around his waist, and it takes him a few seconds to remember about last night. The dance, the flirting, and then the Sultan having him in his bed. The sheets feel wonderful on his skin, he wishes he had these every night…

He tries to break free, but as delicate as he is, he still cannot do it without waking the other up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rin mutters, opening an eye. And then he slithers on top of him, pinning him down again. “Already leaving? I haven’t paid you yet.”

The blond gasps softly, wondering what he should do now. He really does want to leave. He would not be able to stay stuck in a palace, he does not belong here, no matter how beautiful it looks and how much money and comfortable amusement he would get. He is not one to settle.

“I have to go back to my travels and dance,” he replies carefully. He knows better than pissing off someone who is in power.

The Sultan groans capriciously, but eventually takes a deep sigh, letting him go. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Ai will pay you.”

Nagisa takes a deep breath of relief, and quietly gets off the bed, giving the room another look. The candle light is dead, but the sun shines pale and delicate from the window, blinding him slightly. Now he realizes what the veils all around the mattress are for.  _The Sultan sleeps here every night_ , he thinks. _Lucky fellow_.

Nitori, the boy who guided him there to begin with, finds him while he bathes, and tightens his lips together, dropping a towel next to the tub.

“Hey,” he calls out before he can exit. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?” The other replies, sternly, and he probably knows he should not be this aggressive, but…

“Are you in love with the Sultan?” Nagisa asks, looking at him attentively. He has noticed how his behavior was different around him than how it was around other people, and especially around Rin.

Apparently he is right, because the other male just looks at him and then away, but before he can disappear silently Nagisa gets a glimpse of a blush.

“Poor sod,” he whispers to himself, with his head falling back again.

\---

He leaves a few hours later, with the sun in the middle of the sky already beating down on his sweetly tortured skin.

He will bear marks of that night for at least a week, he thinks with a deep sigh. But his bag is full of money now, maybe he can finally go back and be satisfied in his little hometown.

He is not sure the person he really loves still loves  _him_ , but after getting reminded that love is a thing… he wants to try.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a challenge where I could post one story as long as possible and well, I think I'll never write a 5k story again in this entire goddamn year. Honestly. I got a headache, I'm not used to writing this much I KNOW IT'S CHILD'S PLAY FOR SOME OF YOU but I generally tend to not write more than 2k ok  
> and then it was also written for Rin's bday although I'm sorry there aren't his almost canon bfs huuh but I put in there some one-sided thing on Ai's part so... yay I guess?  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY RINRIN <3 omg have you heard the voice tracks on iwatobi-sc *squeals*


End file.
